


(Un)Faithful

by creepyjuliet96



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anxiety, Derek is the CEO, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Miscommunication, Stiles is the housewife
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-02 23:37:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14556057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creepyjuliet96/pseuds/creepyjuliet96
Summary: Ever since he got a new secretary, Derek had been coming home late. Stiles was worried.Is Derek being unfaithful to him?





	1. First

Big credit for the real author [cc_kouga](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cc_kouga) and their story with the same tittle, [(Un)faithful](https://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1109966). Thank you for this beautiful story. :)

 

* * *

 

Derek and Stiles had been happily married for three years. They’ve known each other since college but only started dating two years after graduation. Derek popped the question 17 months into their relationship and Stiles said yes with teary eyes. They got married 4 months later in a private ceremony only attended by close friends and family.

 

Three years later and Stiles still felt like he was living a dream.

 

Derek wasn’t talkative, he didn’t say much, but his actions conveyed everything. He rarely said ‘I love you’, but every night before he went to sleep, Derek would kiss his forehead, both of Stiles's cheeks and lastly his lips. When he woke up in the morning, he did the same thing again before whispering a sleepy good morning and started his day.

 

Derek really wasn’t much for talking, but whenever they’re in public, he would always touch Stiles. He held Stiles’s hand, or placed his palm at the small of Stiles’s back. When they were sitting, he would rest his knee against Stiles’s. Their elbows often knocked together.

 

In the comfort of their luxurious penthouse, Derek became a cuddle monster. The only times he didn’t attach himself to Stiles like a limpet was when he needed to go to the bathroom or when he was working on his home office.

 

Stiles was okay with this kind of Derek, in turn; he said plenty of ‘I love you’ for the both of them.

 

Then the first anxiety came.

 

Stiles was hanging out with his friends, the usual cliques of rich wives (or in his case, husband) of New York. Stiles wasn’t overly fond of them, but being the spouse of one of US’s successful businessmen came with some responsibilities and expectations. So they got together once a month to have tea and gossiped.

 

The get together went quite well, until the topic of Mrs. Pearson came up. She was absent from this month’s meeting and Mrs. Morgan told them in a hushed whisper that Mrs. Pearson was ‘unwell’. She caught her husband cheating with his secretary. She was angry and confronted her husband about it, only to be disappointed by her husband’s response. He mocked her and said that this wasn’t the first time he cheated nor would it be his last. He told her that she should just shut up, turned a blind eye and enjoyed his money. A divorce was also put on the table and he let her chose for herself.

 

How Mrs. Morgan came to know about all the details wasn’t clear to Stiles, but at the word ‘secretary’, Stiles felt his gut twisted up.

Just three weeks ago, Derek had gotten a new secretary. His last one -Boyd- resigned because he decided to move to the Kanada with his beau. Derek had mentioned it in passing to Stiles and Stiles harrumphed a bit, he had liked Boyd. In Stiles’s opinion, the soft-looking man was dynamite.

 

Stiles had asked about Derek’ new secretary, and the CEO replied nonchalantly.

 

“She was adequate. But it’s only been a few days. Let’s see if she can handle her workload as good as Boyd.”

 

Stiles didn’t think much of it at the time. But now he had his doubts.

 

Because lately, Derek had been coming home late.

 

Usually, Derek would be home before nine, no matter how busy he was, but for the past week, he always came home close to midnight. When Stiles asked him, Derek had an apologetic smile on his face.

 

“I’m sorry, but I have a big project on hand. We have an upcoming contract with this Japan based company and I want to make sure everything goes smoothly. Our company has a lot riding on this one.”

 

Stiles nodded his understanding and held Derek tightly.

 

“Good luck on the project. I’m sure you’ll bag this one.” He said encouragingly.

 

“Thank you.” Derek answered and held him tighter.

 

*****

 

Stiles wanted to believe in Derek but Mrs. Pearson’s story was slowly making him uncomfortable. He never had any reason to doubt Derek before, but a big project just as he got a new secretary? Coming home late ever since he got a female secretary? Stiles couldn’t swallow it.

 

So he tried to find another sign that Derek was hiding something from him. He tried to look for shifty behaviors and tiny marks on Derek’ body that wasn’t left by him. So far, he didn’t find any, Derek was still the same Derek, few in words, abundant in gestures. But it still wasn’t enough to quell his growing anxiety.

 

One day, it came to him like a slap. He was going through the dirty hamper, looking for his grey suit jacket because he left some name card on the pocket. And he came across Derek’ dress shirt. It had a little pinkish stain just below the collar, and when Stiles brought it closer to inspect it, he caught a whiff of unfamiliar perfume. _A woman’s perfume_.

 

Stiles threw the shirt like it burned him. He stared with wide eyes in shock and disbelief. His chest began hurting and he realized that he was gasping for breath.

 

‘This can’t be! No! NO! This can’t be!’ He internally panicked.

 

But the evidence was there, and Stiles crumpled in on himself.

 

Stiles managed to compose himself and pretended that nothing happened. Later that night, he kept from flinching when he felt Derek slid in to bed and did his ritual kisses. Either Derek didn’t notice or he didn’t care that Stiles was silent and stayed stiff as a rock. Derek snuggled into Stiles some more and in minutes he was asleep, leaving a bewildered Stiles awake.

 

The next day, Stiles still kept up appearances. He let Derek kissed and hugged him, although he didn’t reciprocate. Once Derek walked out the door, Stiles scrambled to the bathroom and heaved into the toilet bowl. The thought of Derek’ hands and lips on someone else’s body was too much to bear.

 

Stiles spent the day in a sort of trance, going through the motions automatically while his mind raced with the whys and hows.

 

When nine o’clock rolled around and Derek hadn’t come home, Stiles picked up the phone and called him, something that he never done before. But Derek’ didn’t answer and he was connected to the voice mail instead. With trembling fingers, Stiles dialed the office phone.

 

A woman, the secretary no doubt, greeted him. Stiles’s gripped harder on his phone as his mind registered her breathy voice.

 

“I need to speak with my husband.” He said to the receiver.

 

“I’m sorry sir, but to whom am I speaking?” She asked.

 

Stiles gulped. “I’m Stiles Stilinski-Hale, and I’m calling for my husband.”

 

“Oh, I’m very sorry Mr. Stilinski, but the CEO is having an important international conference call. He can’t be bothered at the moment.” Her tone was dismissive and not in the least bit apologetic.

 

Stiles clenched his teeth and rudely hang up. He couldn’t deal with this right now. He was still too raw. Derek never, ever, ignored his call. No matter how busy he was, he would always make time for Stiles. Even if he couldn’t get through Derek’ cell, Stiles only had to call the office phone and Boyd would always connect his call.

 

This was the first time Derek rejected his call. And the thought that Derek stayed in his office so late in the night with his secretary made Stiles dizzy. Stiles took a deep breath to calm his panicking self. His doubts and fears were festering and he had to do something soon. He didn’t think he could take another day of this suffocating anxiety.

 

The next morning just before Derek left for work, Stiles gathered his courage and asked him.

 

“Will you be late again tonight?”

 

Derek smiled apologetically and caressed Stiles’s cheek.

 

“Most likely.” He answered. “Don’t wait up for me.” He said before stepping into their private elevator.

 

Stiles only nodded.

 

That night, Stiles went to Derek office with a heavy heart. He didn’t want to cause a scene, but if he caught Derek in the act, then he could find closure, not to mention that he would be justified for any fight that might ensue.

 

He smiled to the night guard who recognized and bowed to him, as he made his way across the lobby and went to the CEO’s lift. He flashed his card on the reader and the door opened up for him. Walking inside the car, he felt like walking into his coffin. He pressed the button for Derek’ floor and wiped at the sweat gathered at his temple.

 

When the bell dinged and the door opened, Stiles needed a few second to compose himself before he came out. His sneakers made soft sound as he walked along the marble hallway into Derek’ office. Then he heard it, the click clack of high heels.

 

His courage took that moment to abandon him and Stiles found himself scurrying to hide behind the reception desk. He peeked from around the desk’s edge and immediately wished that he hadn’t.

 

The woman, secretary his mind supplied, he saw was beautiful. She had long honey brown hair which curled around her shoulder. She had smoky eyes make up and her lips were painted red. But the one thing that killed Stiles was her perfectly manicured fingers, buttoning up her open blouse as she walked to the elevator.

 

Stiles caught a glimpse of her generous breast and when she passed him, he could see her full bottom and supple thighs. Her skirt had ridden up and she fixed it after she was done with her blouse. She was sexy and curvaceous. And Stiles would never have that.

 

Once she was inside the elevator, Stiles slowly crawled out of his hiding. His knees wobbled as he made his way to Derek’ office. The door was slightly open and through the gap, Stiles could see Derek. His husband was sitting back on his chair, eyes closed and lips slightly opened; tiny pants escaped the small mouth. His hair was mussed and his suit and tie was nowhere to be seen. The top two button of his dress shirt was undone and Stiles felt his whole world crumble.

 

He didn’t make it in time to see for his own eyes, but the sight of the aftermath was just as heartbreaking. Stiles turned around, swallowing a choked sob down and ran to the elevator.

 

Derek had cheated on him. Derek had _cheated_ on him.

 

*****

 

Stiles thought he was brave enough to confront Derek, but three days had passed since that night and Stiles hadn’t mention anything. He wanted to, but for the life of him, he just couldn’t. His mind keep repeating the scene of her walking out of Derek’ office, barely dressed and his imagination supplied the rest.

 

Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Derek on his chair with that woman on top of him.

 

Before he decided to go to Derek’ office, he had practiced what he would say. He would demand Derek to stop and apologize. He would demand Derek to never make the same mistake again or he would leave. Divorce was an option Stiles was willing to take. He had put his trust in Derek, and Derek took it for granted. He wouldn’t hesitate, because even if it was nice to live in the lap of luxury, he had no need for it. He needed Derek’ love and attention more than all the material he could get. He didn’t need Derek’ money; he needed Derek’ heart and soul.

 

Stiles had psyched himself up to talk to Derek about his affair. He gave himself a pep talk, rehearsing what he would say over and over again. Scripting scenarios in his mind of how their talk would go down. Preparing answers and questions, accusations and demands for explanations. He prepared rebuttals for every excuses Derek might had, hardening his heart so he wouldn’t cry or break down in the middle.

 

But then Derek came home and Stiles’s resolve would turn into dust. He would take one look at Derek’ eyes and whatever speech he had would die down in his throat. It didn’t help that Derek acted like nothing happened. He still treated Stiles the way he used to, with care and adoration. Stiles should’ve called Derek out on his deception, but the part that still loved Derek won out every time. At the end of the day, Derek still came home and sleep in their bed with Stiles in his arms.

 

Stiles was disgusted with both Derek and himself. He was livid; he was hurt, sad and disappointed, more so toward himself, because no matter how hard he tried to act brave and tough, in the end he acted just as cowardly as Derek. Hiding behind a façade of false contentment just to try and prolonged an illusion of a happy marriage. Stiles shroud himself in ignorance and denial, wanting to leave but choosing to stay.

He purposefully acted cold toward the other man. But it only killed him when Derek didn’t even notice that Stiles barely looked at him, barely returned his touch and kisses. He was too busy and seldom home to realize the changes in Stiles.

 

Stiles wanted to end everything, but the glint of his wedding ring made him remembered all those happy times he shared with Derek, back before that woman came and took Derek away, back when Stiles was still Derek’ one and only. One night, Stiles had had enough and he started to pack his bags, only to broke down in tears and unpacked again half an hour later. He went to sleep crying and Derek didn’t even notice the tear stain on his cheeks as he kissed him goodnight.

 

Two weeks of torturing himself, Stiles finally said something to Derek.

 

“Since you’ll be late tonight, can I go out for a drink with my friends? It’s been lonely here.”

 

Derek looked at him with a flash of guilt that churned Stiles’s stomach. The taller man came up to Stiles and enveloped him in a hug.

 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered to Stiles’s hair.

 

‘Apparently not sorry enough to stop fucking her.’ Stiles thought to himself.

 

“Sure. You should have some fun with your friends. Just be careful and don’t drink and drive. Grab a cab if you have to.” Derek said and continued with his routine kisses.

 

Stiles nodded and let him, the warmth he used to feel whenever Derek kissed him had been replaced with a cold slide of disgust along his spine. His disgust at Derek’ pretense twined with his disgust at his own pretense, creating a thorny rope of resentment, wrapped around his heart and made it hard to breathe.

 

When the sun set, Stiles clothed himself in ripped jeans, see through shirt and leather jacket. He laced up his Doc Marten boots, gelled his hair up and applied some perfume here and there. He grabbed his wallet and took off his wedding ring before he left for a fun night.

 

Derek thought that Stiles was meeting up with his ‘respectable’ friends, but Stiles didn’t want to be respectable that night. He wanted to be free and forget everything for a moment. He had call up his old friends from college. The ones Derek deemed rowdy and wild. They ones Derek didn’t approve. And in some twisted way, it felt good to go against Derek and went behind his back.

 

They met up in a club, one in shadier part of town with private backrooms and condom dispensers in the bathroom. Stiles drank and danced and drank some more. His friends were surprised by his sudden naughtiness, but they encouraged him never the less.

 

The night got wilder and Stiles was pleasantly buzzed when a good looking guy sidled up to him on the dance floor and began to grind against him. Stiles stuttered for a moment and he drunkenly stepped away. Upon seeing the frown in Stiles’s face, the man held up his hands and backed off with an apologetic smile.

 

It stunned Stiles when he realized that a stranger was hitting on him. It had been years since the last time he got hit on. His friends who witnessed the entire scene broke out in laughter. One nudged him and another whispered in his ear.

 

“Live a little Stiles. What happens here stays here. The husband doesn’t need to know and we’re sure as hell won’t tell on you.”

 

The words echoed in Stiles’s fuzzy brain.

 

_‘What happens here stays here. The husband doesn’t need to know.’_

 

Was this what that woman whispered to Derek’ ear just before she mounted him?

 

Was this what Derek said to her just before he took her?

 

A sudden flash of anger burn through Stiles’s stomach and he smirked.

 

‘What happens here stays here. I might as well have my own fun.’

 

The next time a woman threw him an inviting looks, Stiles went to her without any hesitancy.

 

They ended up in one of the backrooms. She hitched up her skimpy dress and Stiles dropped his pants. Even through his addled brain, Stiles still remembered to put on a condom.

 

As he pushed into her, a pang of guilt made his heart ache and he almost stop. Almost. Because the next second, an image of Derek with his secretary, doing the exact same thing as he was right now made Stiles lose all reason. Stiles gritted his teeth and drove hard into her, making her gasped.

 

Stiles didn’t waste any time and set an unforgiving pace from the start, letting out all his frustrations through his thrusts. She was mewling in pleasure, thoroughly enjoying the rough fucking. Her hands slipped under Stiles’s shirt and she scratched at his back. Stiles didn’t register the sting; he was too lost in moving in and out of her heat.

 

It felt good but wrong at the same time. This wasn’t the kind of pleasure he was used too. Still Stiles kept pounding into her, chasing after the release his body desperately needed. With a hoarse cry he finally spilled into the condom. The euphoria was short lived, there one second and gone in the next. Stiles pulled out of her and wordlessly got rid of the condom and the evidence of his own unfaithful act.

 

She smiled up at him and fished out another foil of condom. Spreading her legs further she coyly asked him.

 

“Up for another round hot boy?”

 

Stiles ended up fucking her one more time before the alcohol got the best of him.

 

*****

 

Stiles woke up the next morning in a foreign room with a splitting headache. His mouth tasted like shit and his stomach churned. He groaned and rolled over from the sofa he slept on. He noticed his friends from last night sprawled around the living room. Stiles picked his way among the sleeping bodies and staggered around searching for the bathroom.

 

He emptied his bladder and rinsed his mouth. As he looked at his reflection on the mirror, the memories of last night slammed into him and he almost didn’t make it before he retched violently into the toilet bowl. He threw up everything until only bile left.

 

With shaking fingers he wiped his mouth and flushed the toilet. He rinsed his mouth again and splashed his face with water. He cupped his hands and drank from the tap, ignoring the tangy taste of the water. He opened the medicine cabinet and found a bottle of pain reliever. He downed two of the pills and cleaned his mouth using his index finger and a dollop of toothpaste.

 

He felt slightly better and he returned to the living room to look for his things. He found his wallet and phone and without waking up any of his friends, he left the apartment.

 

Stiles zipped up his jacket, feeling like his see through shirt was indecent in the light of day. He could do nothing about his ripped jeans although he wished hard for a pair of sunglasses because the sunlight was making his headache worse.

 

Stiles spotted a diner and hastily made his way inside. He almost stepped back out because the diner turned out to be a quaint little café but the waiter was friendly and he smiled at Stiles in understanding before he led Stiles to a secluded booth all the way to the back, away from the window and the morning rush.

 

Stiles ordered coffee and the waiter suggested a bowl of chicken porridge to help with the hangover. Stiles thanked him sincerely and waited for his orders to arrive. He checked his phone and found several missed calls and messages from Derek. His gut twisted again, but he wasn’t ready to face anything related to Derek, so he put away his phone and slumped down on the table.

 

Then a voice he never thought he would ever hear again reached his ears. It was _that woman’s_ voice.

 

Stiles trembled in his seat and before he could bolt up from his seat, the waiter returned with his orders. The waiter gave him a concerned look as he placed the cup of coffee and a bowl of porridge on the table. Stiles smiled and gestured that he was fine when in fact, he wasn’t. He hadn’t been fine ever since that night. And the woman that he despised the most was having

breakfast with her friend, only a booth away from him.

 

Stiles grabbed his spoon tightly and it took all of his will power not to hurl it at her.

 

Then Stiles caught their conversation and it made him froze in shock.

 

“So, have you slept with your boss?” Her friend asked.

 

The woman scoffed. “He was a straight laced pain in the ass.”

 

“So you haven’t banged him yet?”

 

She sighed. “Not for lack of trying though. I mean, I literally undressed in front of him and he didn’t even bat an eyelash. He only told me to put my clothes back on and sent me home.”

 

Her friend snorted. “That never stopped you before.”

 

The woman sighed again. “I tried again but he showed me his wedding ring, saying, and I quote, that he has a husband waiting for him at home. He really needs a secretary because of this big contract he’s working on; otherwise he would’ve fire me and be done with my shit, unquote.”

 

Her friend laughed. “He turned you down after you flashed him your boobs? What a man.” She said mockingly.

 

“He has their wedding photo on his desk and I swear he looks at that photo more often than at me.”

 

Stiles didn’t stay to hear the rest of their conversation. He pulled out some bills and threw it on the table before he half ran out of the café.

 

He had heard enough and he felt hundreds of times worse than that night he went to Derek' office.

 

Stiles ran and ran until he was out of breath and had to stop. He found himself in an unfamiliar place. He looked around and spotted a small alleyway. He staggered there and made it a few feet before the reality of the situation dawned on him.

 

He fell to his knees and bile rose in the back of his throat. As Stiles once again puked his gut out, his mind screamed at him.

 

‘Derek didn’t cheat on me! Derek didn’t cheat on me! _Derek didn’t cheat on me!_ ’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah. this story is not mine. Im simply want to share this great and beautiful story to another fandom. and dont worry pals. the real author already give me their blessing to show their works to this great beautiful fandom. thank you so much, lovely author.  
> trigger warnings: in this chapter contain some cheating acts and doing sexual things with a stranger. so, prepare yourself.  
> #insertlovehere  
> #pleasebekindtome  
> #imnewbieinthisfandom  
> #justfoundhowSexyAdorableCuteShitSterekIs


	2. Second

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm supposed to update this 2 days ago.. but well, i got distracted and now here I am~  
> So yeah, have a nice weekend everyone!

 

After what felt like forever, Stiles gathered himself up and walked out of the alleyway. He hailed a cab and with trembling voice he rattled off his address. The taxi ride was suffocating and it lasted much too short for Stiles’s liking. He paid his fare and quickly made his way to the private elevator, ignoring the doorman’s greetings.

 

The penthouse was empty and he found a note lying on the coffee table. It was written in Derek’ handwriting, stating that he went out to play golf with his business partners. Stiles left the note on the table and quickly went to their room.

 

He didn’t pause and went straight to the massive en suite bathroom. He stripped himself naked and turned the hot water dial as high as he could stand it. He stood under the hot spray and let the scalding water washed away the filth from last night. He scrubbed himself raw, until his skin reddened and he felt the sting on his back. He rubbed at his member until it hurt.

 

And he doubled over in pain as his heart broke all over again. Stiles ended up curling on the bathroom floor. His tears mixed with the hot water and the sound of the spraying waters drowned out his sobs.

 

Derek didn’t cheat on him. Derek never cheated on him. But last night, Stiles was the one who cheated on Derek.

 

*****

 

Stiles spend the day in a daze. He finally got out of the shower. He picked up his discarded clothes and almost threw up again. He stuffed everything he wore last night into a trash bag including his socks and boots, and chucked it into the trash bin.

 

He brushed his teeth, only mildly grateful that he didn’t kiss her or put his mouth anywhere near her body. He washed his hands again and again, trying to dispel the phantom feelings of her skin under his fingers. But it couldn’t erase the guilt.

 

Nothing he did could wash away the sickening feelings in the pit of his stomach.

 

He made a grave mistake last night. No. He made a grave mistake long before last night.

 

His fault lied in his unwillingness to talk to Derek about his anxiety, about his insecurity. His fault lied in thinking that Derek could be unfaithful to him. His fault lied in not trusting Derek enough.

 

He should’ve confronted Derek, putting all of his fears into the table, letting Derek knew about his suspicions. Derek might be angry at him and they might fight. But at least they could be honest with each other and got through it together. Stiles could’ve been the bigger man and admitted his mistake and apologized, and Derek would’ve surely forgive him. They could’ve worked it out and came out stronger than before, together.

 

But Stiles’s doubt clouded his judgments. It drove him to do the very act he accused Derek of. He cheated on his husband, all because of his cowardice.

 

Stiles wished he could turn back time and returned to that night. He would’ve done things differently. He would’ve marched up to Derek’ office and demanded explanation. He wouldn’t have ran away or kept his silence.

 

But it was too late to regret. Too late. Too late. Too late.

 

Stiles stumbled into bed and cried himself to sleep.

 

****

 

He woke up to the feeling of gentle fingers running through his hair.

 

“Derek?” He croaked out. Derek was sitting beside him, eyes gentle and full of love.

 

“Wild night?” He asked softly. Stiles felt like dying.

 

“I was worried when you didn’t come home and I couldn’t reach you.” Derek sighed, his fingers still playing with Stiles’s hair. “Now I know how you feel every night waiting for me.” Derek continued self deprecatingly. He leaned down and kissed Stiles’s forehead. “Hang in there a bit longer. The contract is almost done, just a few more weeks. Then I’ll take a break and we could go to Europe for that vacation you’ve been wanting.”

 

Stiles sobbed and wound his hands around Derek neck. “Derek. Derek. Derek. Derek. Derek. Derek.” He cried desperately. Derek was surprised but he gathered Stiles in his arm and soothed his younger husband.

 

“Shush, baby. I’m here. I’m here. It’s okay. Did you have a nightmare?” Stiles only cried harder. “Stiles, hey? You’re okay, baby? I’m starting to worry here.” Derek asked when minutes passed and Stiles hadn’t calmed down.

 

Stiles gulped and release his strangle hold on Derek’ neck.

 

“I miss you. I miss you so much.” Stiles choked out. The guilt flashing across Derek eyes made Stiles felt worse. He had mistakenly attributed that look to Derek’ unfaithfulness, when in fact it was borne out of guilt for neglecting Stiles. He mistook Derek’ fatigue for indifference.

 

Derek kissed his forehead again. “I miss you too baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Derek apologized.

 

Stiles almost screamed out that he was the one who should be sorry. That he was the one who should beg for forgiveness. Instead he crushed Derek’ lips with his own.

 

“I want you. I want you.” He whispered harshly. He needed Derek to touch him, to have him. He needed Derek to erase last night’s mistake. It was very selfish of him, but all Stiles cared about just then was to be Derek’ again.

 

Derek growled and pushed Stiles to the mattress. He kissed Stiles with unbridled passion. His tongue was slick and hot against Stiles’s. His big hands slid against the side of Stiles's naked body and his mouth soon followed.

 

Stiles bit down on his sobs and tried to replace the unwanted memories in his head with the skin burning sensations of Derek’ fingers on him.

 

Derek yanked down the blanket and he let out another possessive growl when he found that Stiles was totally naked underneath. Derek moved down Stiles’s body but Stiles’s hands stopped him before he reached Stiles’s member.

 

“No, no. I want you in me. Now. I want you to take me now.” Stiles was impatient.

 

Derek stopped but he made no objection. He kissed Stiles’s lips again before he gripped Stiles’s waist and made him turn around.

 

And that was when everything stopped. Derek gasped and stilled.

 

Stiles groaned and turned his head to ask what was wrong. And Derek’ trembling fingers running down his back made him remembered. She had scratched his back last night.

 

“Stiles?” Derek’ voice was small and trembling, and Stiles broke out in sobs.

 

Derek stood up from the bed so fast. “You slept with someone.” he whispered.

 

Stiles sat up and made to reach for Derek. But Derek flinched and stepped away from the bed.

 

“You slept with someone.” He said more firmly. And before Stiles could say anything, Derek was already halfway out of their room.

 

Stiles scrambled after him. “Derek wait! Wait! Please! I can explain!” He ran after Derek. He managed to catch up to him in the living room. Stiles caught Derek’s arm but the latter wrenched it away.

 

“Don’t! Don’t touch me!” Derek shouted at him. And Stiles whimpered. “I’m sorry Derek. I’m really really sorry. But I can explain. Please let me explain.” He begged.

 

Derek looked pained and there were tears in his eyes. He moved toward the elevator but Stiles ran passed him and planted himself in front of it.

 

“Don’t leave. Please don’t leave. We can talk this out baby. Please I’m begging you. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me again.” Stiles sobbed.

 

Derek hissed and closed his eyes. He drew several long breaths and his shoulders sagged. He took several steps backward and opened his eyes.

 

Stiles fell to his knees upon seeing the raw hurt in those eyes. Derek was hurting and Stiles was the cause of it. Stiles lowered his head until his forehead touched the cold floor.

 

“I’m begging you. Don’t leave.” He sobbed out. “I made a mistake and I beg for your forgiveness. Just give me a chance to explain.”

 

Derek deflated upon seeing the crumpled form of his husband.

“I won’t leave.” He finally bit out.

 

Stiles raised his head to look at him.

“But I can’t bear to look at you right now. I can’t.” Derek said before he walked away and disappeared into his home office.

 

The sound of the door slammed shut was like thunder to Stiles’s ear, but he made no move to rise from the floor. He stayed there and thanked the gods that Derek chose to stay instead of leaving.

 

 *****

 

An hour passed and Stiles had crawled from the foyer all the way to the front of Derek’ home office. He could’ve stood up and walked, but Stiles found that he had no strength left. He didn’t remember when the last time he had eaten was. His stomach growled but the thought of food only made him nauseous.

 

Stiles sat down and leaned against the wall next to the door. He drew up his knees up to his chest and waited. His still naked body shivered from the cold floor and cool air, but he paid it no mind. His eyes were dry because he was too numb to even cry.

 

His head was a jumble of thoughts. All the fears, anxieties, regrets and memories swirled around, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth, a hollow in his stomach and a vast emptiness in his heart. He never knew that he could be this broken, but he could, and he was. The worst part was he did this to himself.

 

Stiles suddenly sneezed and he rubbed his arms to fight of some of the chill. Another sneeze followed and Stiles dimly thought that maybe he should get something to wear.

 

That was when the door softly opened beside him. Stiles stood up so fast he got dizzy for a while. Derek was standing at the threshold with cold mask in his face and ice in his eyes. Still, he held out his navy cardigan to Stiles.

 

“Put some clothes on.” Derek said coldly.

 

And tears finally made it past Stiles’s eyes. With trembling fingers he took the cardigan but instead of putting it on, he bunched it in his hands and buried his face into the soft cashmere. He drew a deep breath and inhaled Derek’ musky scent and he muffled his ugly sobs into the cardigan.

 

Derek sighed and stepped around Stiles and walked to the living room. He grabbed the aran throw from the back of the Italian leather sofa and draped it across Stiles’s shoulder.

 

Stiles felt the throw on his shoulder and the sudden warmth brought him to his knees again.

 

Even after all these, Derek still cared enough about him. Even after he hurt Derek so badly and tainted their marriage, Derek still took good care of him. Derek stepped inside his home office again but left the door open.

 

“Stop crying and come in. I’d like to have that explanation now.” Derek said.

 

Stiles’s head whipped up to look at his husband. Derek was sitting behind his mahogany table with a closed off expression. His hands were neatly placed on top of the table and his back was straight. Stiles wiped his tears and came to realize that the man in front of him was not his husband Derek. The man in front of him was the businessman, the _CEO_ Hale.

 

Stiles stood up and made his way inside with shaky legs. He stood in front of the table, hands fidgeting with the cardigan.

 

“Have a seat Mr. Mieczyslaw Stilinski.”

And Stiles dropped to the nearest chair with a defeated sigh. Derek never ever called him Mieczyslaw. Even back in college when they were only mere acquaintances Derek keep calling him Mr. Stilinski (till Stiles told him ‘just call me Stiles, _please_. Oh God its like you’re calling me my dad) and then he hadn’t been a Stilinski  for a while, three years to be exact. After his ‘I do’, he had been a Hale. And in that moment at the way Derek call him by his real name with perfect pronounce he just feel sick to the stomach and just feel ashamed even more. But Stiles had no right to complain so he didn’t say anything about it now.

 

“You can start any time now.” Derek’s voice brought Stiles back to the situation at hand.

 

Stiles composed himself and looked up to meet Derek’ eyes, but the indifferent stare unnerved him and he looked down at his lap again.

 

“I don’t know where to start.” Stiles finally said after some minutes passed in silence. Truthfully he had so much to say, too much even. But his brain couldn’t come up with proper words.

 

“Start at the beginning.” Was Derek’ helpful suggestion. And Stiles was taken back to that get together; his mind replaying Mrs. Morgan ‘s story of Mrs. Pearson. Stiles took a deep breath and started from there.

 

With soft and trembling voice, Stiles told Derek about Mrs. Pearson. He heard Derek’ scoff at the mention of ‘secretary’. Then Stiles brought up Derek’ long hours at the office. Derek’ grunted but didn’t interrupt him. Next Stiles shared his ‘discovery’, he told Derek’ about the shirt with lipstick stain and unfamiliar perfume. Derek only sighed but still kept his silence.

 

Then Stiles told him about the failed phone calls and about what he saw the night he went to Derek’ office. Stiles told Derek about his doubt, his fears, his jealousy and his suspicions. And it had felt good, to finally let Derek know about the negative emotions festered inside of him. It felt good to finally lay bare of some of the monsters in his chest.

 

Finally he told Derek about what happened the night before.

 

“I was drunk and I wasn’t thinking. I was hurt and I wanted to have my pay back.” His breath hitched but he soldiered on.

 

“I know it was foolish of me. To think that cheating was the right way to get back at you. But at that time, all I can think about was you doing it with your secretary and I just lost it. I know now that it was a mistake, but back then I…” Stiles stuttered for the first time in his long narration. “I felt justified.” He ended in a whisper, too ashamed to say it out loud.

 

Another moment of silence stretched between them. Derek tapped his fingers against the table top and Stiles involuntarily flinched at the sound. It felt too much like the bang of a judge’s gavel.

 

“Anything else you have to say?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded frantically. He cleared his throat and began again.

 

He told Derek about the morning after, about the little revelation at the café, about how he came home and scrubbed himself raw. He told Derek about how wretched and guilty he felt. He told Derek about how much it killed him to know how bad he screwed up, and Derek scoffed at the phrase ‘screwed up’. Stiles bit his lips and berated himself; he could’ve chosen some other words.

 

“And that’s it.” Stiles concluded his story.

 

“That’s it?” Derek asked incredulously.

 

Stiles looked up in time to see the offended look on Derek’ face before it disappeared behind a stoic mask. Stiles thought hard for a moment and then it dawned on him. He hadn’t uttered a single word of apology.

 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! It was all my fault.” Stiles started to apologize.

 

He knew he didn’t deserve Derek’ forgiveness, but he craved it none the less.

 

“I admit that I was wrong, that I was stupid. I made the biggest mistake of my life and I’ll repent for it. But I want us back. I want us to be us again.” Stiles took a deep breath. “I need you to forgive me. This is very selfish and I have no right to ask this of you. I don’t deserve you. But I need you Derek. I need you. Please have me back.” Stiles pleaded.

 

Derek gave him a skeptical look and Stiles backpedalled so quickly he almost gave himself a whiplash.

 

 “Okay, you don’t have to forgive me if you don’t want to, but please take me back. Take me back and don’t leave me.” Stiles was close to another breakdown and he felt his breath shortened.

 

Derek clenched his jaws and rolled his shoulders. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of Stiles ever since the younger man stepped into his office. Stiles endured the heavy stare, putting on his best contrite look. Then Derek heaved a long drawn out breath and Stiles saw the transformation of CEO Hale to his husband Derek.

 

He was glad Derek shed the cold indifferent persona, but there was a world of pain rolling off of Derek in great big waves. Stiles felt a big part of him died inside and not for the first time, he wished he could take it all back.

 

“If you had told me all these from the beginning…” Derek finally said. Stiles wrung his hand and hoped for the best. “I do have a great big project.” He began again.

 

Stiles nodded vigorously. “I know.”

 

“No, Stiles. You don’t!” Derek abruptly raised his voice. Stiles flinched and clutched at the cardigan still in his hands. “That’s the problem. You don’t know, or you don’t believe me.” Derek continued in a calmer tone.

 

“I told you that I have a big contract. I told you that I have a new secretary and I also told you that she was adequate but not up to par with Boyd. I come home late because I’m dealing with a Japan based company. Time  difference Stiles. Their office time starts when our ended.”

 

And Stiles wanted to smack himself for not realizing that sooner.

 

“I could’ve finished everything early if my secretary actually does her job instead of seducing me every opportunity she has.”

 

Stiles flinched again.

 

“I’m sorry about ignoring your phone call, I didn’t mean to. And maybe I should’ve done something the first time she seduced me, but the timing wasn’t right, I have too much on my plate to bother with finding her replacement. But I could assure you that I never encouraged her. I never gave her any reason to think that I would be interested in her.” Derek ran his palm over his face and huffed out.

 

“And the shirt, it was an accident. I bumped into a female employee and got that stain. In case you didn’t notice, my secretary wears red lipstick. I felt like talking to a vampire every time I talk to her.” Derek muttered the last sentence.

 

Stiles had to bite down a sudden smile after hearing Derek’ petulant tone.

 

“Stiles.” Derek called him.

 

“Yes.” Stiles answered solemnly, half elated because Derek called him by his name again.

 

“I’m hurt because you put so little faith in me. To have you think that I’m not trustworthy when I always do my best to show you how much you mean to me. Was it not enough?”

 

Stiles shook his head frantically. “No! It was enough. You did more than enough.”

 

“Then why?” Derek cut him off. “Did I make you unhappy?”

 

“No! No, Derek! You make me happy! You always make me happy!” Stiles cried out.

 

“Then why?!” Derek banged the table and screamed at last and Stiles saw the composure leaving his husband’s body.

 

Derek was panting, his eyes were wild, his brows furrowed together. His lips were pulled back in a snarl and his body trembled in suppressed rage.

 

The sight scared Stiles endlessly. For all the years they’ve known each other, Derek never once yelled at him. This was the first time Stiles saw Derek this angry. This was the first time Stiles saw Derek angry, period.

 

Like a healthy couple, they have their share of disagreements; they fought a couple of times too. But usually, Derek would be the calm and mature one, while Stiles would be the one acting like a drama queen. This was their first big fight and Stiles was terrified that this would be the end of them.

 

The thought of it released the floodgate inside Stiles and his tears started anew.

 

“It’s not you Derek. It’s never you.” Stiles said brokenly. “It was always me, always my fault, always my mistake.”

 

“You are perfect. You’re every women and men’s dream come true. You’re handsome, successful, loving, caring and God, you’re a beast in bed.” Stiles couldn’t help but add the last part.

 

“But what am I compared to you? I’m nothing, a nobody, Derek. I’m no one.” Stiles sobbed. “I feel so inadequate, unimportant, so lacking in everything. I’m clumsy, I’m awkward, I don’t have a job and I have a creepy smile for fuck sake. It was like a dream come true when you asked me out. And when you asked me to marry you, I was sure I’ve died and gone to heaven. I was happy, I am happy.” Stiles took a deep breath.

 

“But deep inside I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.” He admitted in a whisper.

 

“I was afraid that one day you’ll wake up and realize that you can do so much better than me. That you’ll find someone else and leave me and…” Stiles couldn’t finish his sentence. He bit down on his lip and hunched down on himself, great big sobs wrecked his body.

 

Then Derek’ voice broke the suffocating air.

 

“But you’re not a nobody. You’re my husband. You’re my everything, my only one.” Derek said loud and clear.

 

“To me, you’re perfect. I love your clumsiness, I love that you’re awkward because I think it’s cute. And I don’t care about your creepy smile, I love it anyway. And you’re precious to me Stiles. You’re so precious to me.” Derek sighed.

 

“I’m sorry if I don’t say it often. I’m sorry if I don’t show you enough. I’m sorry that you can’t see it. I’m sorry that you can’t feel it. But I love you Stiles. I love you.”

 

Stiles cried and launched himself from his chair and threw himself at Derek’ feet. It was a feat considering there was a whole table between them. Derek turned his swiveling chair in time for Stiles to bury his face on Derek lap while his arms hugged the sitting man’s legs. The position was awkward as hell, but it was the furthest thing from Stiles’s mind. He wasn’t above begging and if he had to kiss Derek’ feet to earn his forgiveness then he’d happily do it.

 

Stiles never felt so happy before, at the same time, he never felt so ashamed of himself. It was a weird combination of elation and humbling realization.

 

“I don’t deserve you, I don’t deserve you.” Stiles moaned. “But I love you so much. Oh God, Derek, I love you so much. I’m sorry and I could never say this enough. I’m sorry. I’m, sorry, I’m sorry.”

 

Derek tried to hold on to his anger, but this was Stiles. The only man he loved. The only man he ever wanted and needed. And even if it hurt like hell knowing that for a night Stiles had strayed from him, it hurt even more to see his husband so broken.

 

Derek huffed as he felt his anger ebbed away. He could never win against Stiles’s tears and he cursed himself for that. Even so, he wasn’t going to forgive Stiles so easily.

 

“Stand up, you’re ruining my pants.” He said testily. Stiles looked up at him with a pitiful expression but shook his head and held on tighter to Derek’ legs. They stared at each other for a while before Stiles scrunched up his face and sneezed. Derek cringed at Stiles’s runny nose.

 

“Stand up and go get dressed. You’re ruining my pants and shirt.” Derek said and his eyes drifted to the mangled cardigan wedged between them. “And my cardigan.” He added.

 

Stiles pinked but he still didn’t let go. He looked up at Derek with puppy eyes from his prone position on the floor. Derek mentally cursed at himself because he felt the last of his anger leaving his body. He reached out his hand and awkwardly patted Stiles’s hair.

 

“We’ll talk more after you’re dressed. I’ll be here.” Stiles’s face lit up like Christmas tree and he gave one last squeeze to Derek’ legs before he stood up and left for the bedroom.

 

Once Stiles left, Derek banged his head on the table because he preferred physical pain over the mess their life had become, anytime.

 

While waiting for Stiles’s return, Derek went over their conversation. The hurt and anger were shimmering on his gut, but the love he felt for Stiles triumphed above them. Derek realized that his love for Stiles was very likely his downfall too.

 

If he had loved Stiles just a bit less, he could’ve stay angry. If he had loved Stiles just a little bit less, he would’ve had no trouble in ending this marriage. If he had loved Stiles just a little bit less, then he wouldn’t hurt so badly like this.

 

But no. He loved Stiles, and he couldn’t love him any less.

 

He mulled over Stiles’s words, about his husband’s doubts and anxiety. He didn’t want to admit it, but maybe he played some role in creating this mess too. Lately, he inadvertently neglected Stiles. He was too absorbed with work and too tired to see that Stiles might have some issues. But he was truly disappointed in Stiles for not coming clean to him.

 

Aside from the cut of betrayal, he was also hurt from the fact that Stiles think so little of him. That Stiles could easily succumb to his doubts rather than talk to him. Derek was well aware that he wasn’t the smooth talker or sappily romantic husband, but he thought his actions showed his love.

 

Maybe he didn’t show it enough. Maybe Stiles didn’t get it. But they really need to get this sorted out. Derek knew that divorce was absolutely not an option. He said his vow of ‘until death do us part’, and he would stick by it come hell or high water. Not out of sense of obligation or responsibility, but because that was how much he loved Stiles.

 

But they couldn’t go on like this. They had to rectify this. And Derek hoped Stiles could meet him halfway.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when Stiles smiling down at Jarred? haha, I think that's !creepy smiles Stiles look like. I do think its creepy. but its kind of cute creepy....okay fine, its really cute adorable sweet smile in a creepy way.  
> here, see it yourself https://favim.com/image/1806783/  
> last one, hope i can see you on monday. bYE.


	3. Third

Back in the bedroom, Stiles quickly went to the bathroom and cleaned up. His eyes had become red and swollen from too much crying. He blew his nose and washed his face.

 

He put on underwear and feeling insecure, he grabbed Derek’ night shirt from the hamper and put it on. It was slightly loose on the shoulder, but the lingering smell of Derek’ musky scent calmed him. He donned a pair of sweatpants and searched the bedside table for his wedding ring. He was eternally grateful that Derek didn’t notice the missing ring from his finger. It would’ve killed them both.

 

Stiles held onto a tiny sliver of hope as he returned to Derek’ home office. He had everything to lose and he would fight tooth and nail to make Derek’ see how sorry he was. He loved Derek and he’d spend the rest of his live proving it to him.

 

Stiles knocked before he entered. Derek looked up from writing something on the paper. He gestured for Stiles to sit and continued writing. Stiles sat down and waited patiently. The ball was in Derek’ court and he was willing to wait, even if his stomach twisted with anticipation.

 

Derek finished writing and he read over the paper once before looking at Stiles.

 

“Divorce is not an option.” He said.

 

Stiles slumped in relief and gave a shaky smile.

 

“But,” Derek continued, “I can’t forgive you yet.”

 

Stiles straightened up a bit. It hurt a little but totally understandable. He nodded and waited for Derek to continue.

 

“We apparently have some issues and I intend for us to work through them. Together. Are you with me on this?” He asked.

 

“Yes! Yes! I’m with you.” Stiles answered.

 

“The crux of our problem, is that I’m seldom home and you’re lonely. Your problem is that you feel like you’re not good enough for me. My problem is that I don’t say ‘I love you’ enough.”

 

Stiles was about to protest but Derek’ raised his hand, stopping him.

 

“I know that you think my actions were enough. But maybe you need to hear it too, to know that it’s true.”

 

Stiles bit his lip and nodded.

 

“So, we’re going to work on your self confidence and my lack of romantic verbal skill.” Derek paused to look at Stiles. His husband had a hopeful look in his eyes and a small smile in his lips. Derek felt his heart clenched with a bittersweet feeling.

 

“We’re going to meet each other halfway. If I can’t be here at home with you, then you’re going to be there at the office with me.”

 

Stiles looked confused for a moment.

 

“I want you to really be my husband. Make me a homemade lunch and deliver it to my office. I’ll clear up all my lunch appointments so we can have lunch together. We can also have dinner together. You can stay and keep me company while I work late.” Derek clarified. “I can’t be the only one trying, Stiles. You have to put in your own efforts too.”

 

And upon hearing his own name from Derek’ lips, Stiles felt alive again. He was given a second chance, one he didn’t deserve.

 

“Thank you Derek. Thank you. I Love you and I’ll prove it. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I’ll do whatever it takes.” Stiles breathed out.

 

Derek nodded. “Okay. We’ll start tomorrow. For now, could you fix me something to eat? I’m hungry.”

 

Stiles’s stomach chose that moment to growl.

 

Derek clamped down his laughter but a tiny grin made it to his lips. Stiles looked down in horror at his treacherous stomach and quickly got up. His ears and cheeks pinked and he mumbled ‘I’ll call you when the food’s ready’, before he half ran out of the room.

 

Derek sobered and leaned back in his chair. He was exhausted. But true love never ran smooth. He just had to grit his teeth and marched on, even if he had to bear all the weight and dragged Stiles along with him. That was just how much he loved Stiles.

 

That night they went to bed together, but Derek foregone his usual kisses and turned his back to Stiles. Stiles gripped the blanket so tight his knuckles turned white but said nothing. He knew Derek’ forgiveness didn’t come free or cheap. He had to pay the price and Stiles knew how expensive it was.

 

The first day of their reconciliation, Stiles woke up earlier than ever. He washed his face and brushed his teeth. He went to their walk in closet and prepared Derek’ clothes. He chose the underwear, shirt, suit, tie, cufflinks, belt, handkerchief, watch, socks and shoes.

 

Then he tiptoed out of the room and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the both of them. The hired maid who came in every morning to clean up looked at him with a confused frown before she bowed down. Stiles gave her a sheepish smile.

 

“I want to make breakfast for my husband.” He said by way of explanation.

 

She bowed again but refrained from commenting and continued with her job.

 

It came to him while he was pouring the orange juice while waiting for the toast.

 

He seldom did this for Derek.

 

He would usually still in bed when Derek began his day. He would only wake up long enough to receive Derek’ kisses and then returned to sleep.

 

The shame and realization hit Stiles like a freight train. Derek’ was right, he couldn’t be the only one trying, Stiles had to put in his efforts too. Stiles arranged the simple breakfast on a tray and brought it to the bedroom just in time.

 

Derek was rousing from sleep and by force of habbit, he rolled over to drape his arm over Stiles’s body for a quick cuddle. He raised his head in confusion when his hand met empty bed and groaned when he remembered. He sighed and turned on his back.

 

Just then, Stiles came into the room with a tray of breakfast. He had a nervous smile as he approached the bed and stood beside Derek.

 

“I made breakfast.” He said timidly. Derek sat up and Stiles set the tray on his lap. “I hope you’ll like it.”

 

Derek gave him a brief smile and perused the contents of the tray. Two pieces of toast, one with butter one with peach jam, and a glass of orange juice. Derek gave a wider smile. Stiles still remembered his preferred breakfast.

 

“Thank you. I’ll definitely enjoy this.” Let it never be said that Derek didn’t give credit when it was due. Stiles nodded happily. They were off to a good start.

 

Once Derek finished eating, Stiles cleaned up a bit while Derek took a shower. He returned to the bedroom and tidied up the bed while he waited for Derek. He heard the shower shut off and felt a little flush of excitement at seeing Derek clad only in a towel, droplets of waters still clung to his damp skin.

 

He sat on the bed and waited for Derek to finish dressing. It didn’t take long until the taller man joined him in the bedroom. Derek was holding out his tie and cufflinks.

 

“Help me with these?” He asked.

 

And Stiles had to swallow a ball of unidentifiable emotion. Derek was really trying to mend their marriage by giving Stiles chances to redeem himself.

 

Stiles stood up and helped put the cufflinks. He had a hard time holding back his tears while doing the tie. This was such a simple yet intimate act between husbands and Stiles regretted so much that he never thought of doing this for Derek more often. He used to do this when they were newlywed, but then he became complacent.

 

Derek’ doting and pampering had made him selfish. Straightening the knot, Stiles vowed to be a better husband for Derek.

 

“All done.” Stiles said and stepped back.

 

“Thanks.” Derek mumbled and went back inside the closet to get his suit jacket.

 

Stiles sent Derek off and before the elevator closed, Derek smiled at him.

 

“I’ll be waiting for lunch.”

 

Stiles was happy even if Derek still didn’t kiss or touch him. He knew he hadn’t deserved it. Yet.

 

*****

 

With the help of the maid, Stiles made lunch for Derek. It wasn’t anything elaborate, but Stiles made sure to cook Derek’ favorite dishes. He made a mental note to learn more recipes in the future.  He packed the lunch boxes and grabbed his messenger bag before heading off to Derek’ office.

 

Stiles parked his car on the VIP parking spot at the front of the building, just behind Derek’ car. He walked through the lobby and didn’t stop at the guest reception desk, he had his own keycard for the CEO’s elevator, but he returned the smiles and greetings from the employees who knew him. He stepped off the elevator and drew a deep breath as the memory of the last time he was there invaded his mind. Stiles straightened up and walked confidently to Derek’ office.

 

He smiled at the executive receptionist and didn’t even bother looking at the secretary stationed just outside Derek’ office and went straight to the door. She stood up and was about to stop him but Stiles beat her up to it.

 

“I’m here to see my husband. He’s expecting me.” Without waiting for her reply, Stiles opened the door and stepped inside.

 

Derek was sitting behind his desk and he was talking to a male employee. He stopped talking and they both turned their attention to the door. Stiles smiled and raised the lunch bag he was carrying.

 

“Don’t mind me. I’m just here to deliver CEO Hale’s lunch.” Stiles said. He went to the sofa and started to take out the food containers and arranged them neatly on the coffee table.

 

Derek looked down at his watch and smiled. “It’s lunch time indeed.” He shuffled the papers in front of him and set them aside. “We’ll continue this after lunch.” He said to the employee.

 

The employee bowed to both Derek and Stiles before exiting the office.

 

“I don’t want to be disturbed during lunch and I won’t be taking any calls.” He said to the intercom before making his way to join Stiles.

 

Stiles smiled as he served Derek. Seeing the array of his favorite foods, Derek smiled back at Stiles and started digging. They ate lunch in companionable silence.

 

Once they were done, Stiles packed the boxes and was reluctant to leave. But Derek had returned to his desk and informed his secretary that he had finished lunch.

 

Derek looked up at Stiles and smiled again. “Thanks for the lunch. I’m going to continue my work now.” Then he started going through his papers.

 

The small happiness Stiles felt earlier was completely squashed down. He knew when he was being dismissed.

 

He sighed dejectedly and picked up the bags. Stiles was almost out the door when Derek spoke.

 

“See you at dinner Stiles.”

 

“Ye-yeah.” Stiles stuttered his reply and closed the door behind him.

 

He wanted to get excited about dinner, but couldn’t dredge up any.

 

*****

 

Dinner was a bit more elaborate since Stiles had all afternoon to prepare for it. He decided to wear comfortable clothes and brought his laptop with him, he planned to stay after dinner. Derek had said he could and Stiles wanted to too.

 

He didn’t drive this time, opting to grab a taxi since he could ride home with Derek. He walked through the lobby again, the front guard had changed and he didn’t recognize him. He stopped Stiles and asked for identification. ‘Mieczyslaw Hale’ and a flash of the VIP keycard had the guard bowed down in apology and he hurriedly escorted Stiles to the elevator, going so far as to press the button for him.

 

The secretary wasn’t at her desk when Stiles walked past, and Stiles felt quite smug. It soured into a rotten feeling when he stepped in and saw her standing beside Derek’ desk.

 

“Dinner.” Stiles said weakly when two sets of eyes fell on him. Derek smiled briefly and resumed his conversation with her.

 

Stiles muted them out and busied himself with setting up the table. He heard the click clack of her heels but refused to look up and acknowledged her. He only looked up when Derek sat down beside him.

 

“You’re pouting.” Derek said.

 

Stiles schooled his expressions and served Derek. “I’m not.” He said with a light tone.

 

Derek hummed and said nothing, but there was a knowing smirk at the edge of his lips. Stiles stomped at the brief flare of jealousy and started to eat his own dinner.

 

They didn’t talk much over dinner. Derek returned to his desk and shuffled his papers again.

 

“You’re staying?” He asked.

 

“Yeah. If you don’t mind.” Stiles fidgeted on his seat. Derek smiled at him.

 

“No, I don’t mind. Make yourself comfortable.” He said and called for his secretary.

 

She came back inside and this time Stiles couldn’t help but took in her appearances. She was wearing a black pencil skirt and a ruffled white blouse. Her hair was still in perfect curls and her red lipstick did make Stiles think of vampires. She looked beautiful, sophisticated. Stiles looked down at himself and regretted not wearing something nicer. He only had on a pair of old jeans and one of Derek’ t-shirt.

 

He booted up his laptop and tried not to eavesdrop. He searched up some recipes and browse through food blogs and recipe videos. He distantly heard her leaving the office but was too caught up with the lobster recipe to pay her any mind.

 

Then Derek’ voice reached him. “You look good on my shirt.”

 

Stiles looked up, but Derek wasn’t looking at him. He bit his lips but couldn’t hide the pleased smile on his face.

 

Around ten, the secretary returned with several employees behind her.

 

“Time for your conference call Sir.” She said. Derek checked his watch and motioned for his employees to sit down. They remained standing upon seeing that Stiles was already occupying one of the sofas. Derek walked over with his tablet in hand.

 

“Sit on my desk Stiles, we need to use the sofa.” He said to the younger.

 

“Oh, okay. Sorry.” He said as he relocated to Derek’ desk. The secretary with the help from another male employee set the table up, connecting laptops, phones and what not.

 

Stiles made sure to keep quiet when the conference call started. He heard Derek switched to another language and let the foreign words uttered in his husband’s deep voice washed over him. Somewhere between reading about the different types of sea salts and when to use them, Stiles fell asleep.

 

He was woken up by a gentle shake on his shoulder. “Stiles, wake up. Time to go home.”

 

Stiles jolted up and rubbed at his eyes. “Are you finished with work?” He asked while yawning.

 

“For tonight.” Derek answered.

 

Stiles nodded and stood up to gather his things. They walked out of the office together and went home. They did their night routines and crawled into bed together. Derek still didn’t kiss him and Stiles fell back to sleep watching Derek’ back.

 

 


	4. Fourth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its so late, I know. but here the next chapter. Enjoy!

 

The week progressed much in the same way. Stiles woke up before Derek, picked out his outfit of the day, prepare breakfast and helped Derek with his cufflinks and tie.

 

He’d spend the morning looking up and trying out recipes and making lunch for Derek. He spent his afternoon doing small errands he never bothered with before. He went to the dry cleaners or went grocery shopping before returning to the penthouse and started on dinner. Derek had bought a divan and placed it in a corner of his office. Stiles would lounge there while Derek had his nightly conference call.

 

It was so domestic, so peaceful and for the first time since the incident, Stiles felt like they were finally okay, even if Derek hadn’t kiss or touched him again.

 

The peace lasted for almost a week.

 

At the start of the week Derek didn’t prepare to go to work like usual. He woke even earlier than Stiles and packed his suitcase.

 

“Derek?” Stiles woke up groggily.

 

“I’m flying to Japan today. I need to finalize the contract.” Derek explained.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve helped you pack.” Stiles said as he sat up and rubbed at his eyes.

 

“Sorry, it was last minute arrangement.” Derek zipped up his suitcase.

 

“How long will you be there?” Stiles felt a slight disappointment at seeing Derek all dressed and ready to go, he had been looking forward to help his husband put on the cufflinks and tie.

 

“A week at most. I’ll try to wrap it up as soon as I can.”

 

“It’s okay, no need to rush on account of me.” Stiles yawned.

 

“She’ll be coming with me. We’ll be in the same hotel but different rooms.” Derek suddenly dropped the bomb. Stiles gulped and looked at Derek.

 

“I tell you this upfront so you won’t get any ideas.” Derek said while looking straight at Stiles’s eyes.

 

Something in his tone made it clear that Derek was talking about two things at once.

 

_Don’t get ideas that I’m cheating with her._

_Don’t get ideas to go cheating on me._

 

“I thought we’re past that.” Stiles whimpered.

 

“I haven’t forgiven you Stiles, and I surely haven’t forgotten.” Derek smiled and Stiles shuddered.

 

It was impossible to miss the devastated look on Stiles’s face, and judging by the tiny satisfied grin in the corner of Derek’ mouth, he saw it too. Derek grabbed his coat and walked to the bed and leaned down to kiss the side of Stiles’s temple. Derek finally kissed him, but Stiles only felt cold.

 

“Maybe you should remember this the next time you decided to take off your wedding ring.” He whispered to Stiles’s ear before straightening up and walked out of the room, dragging his suitcase behind.

 

When the door closed, Stiles clutched at his chest and moaned into his pillow. There was a hand of ice gripping at his heart and he was sure he could never breathe properly ever again. He was in a world of pain. Everything hurt.

 

He had thought that Derek didn’t know about the ring, that Derek didn’t notice it was missing from Stiles’s finger for a night. But he should’ve known better. He should’ve known that Derek’ eyes never missed a thing.

 

What really broke him though was the cruel edge to Derek’ smile. Derek knew his words would tear Stiles up, but he said them anyway. Stiles knew this was his punishment, he just didn’t know if he could take it without breaking to pieces again.

 

*****

 

During his trip, Derek never failed to call or text Stiles. The older acted like nothing happened on that morning he left. Stiles was starting to get over the incident but Derek’ words that morning opened up the old wound, waking up the guilt monster that followed his steps and nipped at his heels.

 

Stiles deleted his ‘wild’ friends’ numbers from his phone and have brunch and lunch date and shopping spree with the respectable friends Derek approved instead. He took several one day cooking lessons and learned to bake.

 

He signed up for reading groups, charity projects and make donations to several humanitarian foundations. He stayed away from the gyms because according to the other wives, that was where the gold diggers operated, but he attended the soirees with a smile and happy face.

 

Stiles did his best to make something out of himself. To always be at his best behavior. He tried his best to be a husband Derek could be proud of. He could only hope that his efforts were good enough.

 

*****

 

When Derek returned, Stiles was waiting for him with a table full of warm delicious food. He helped Derek undress and unpacked the suitcase while the older man took a shower. He found several gift boxes with his name on the tags. He smiled and placed them on the bedside table, he’d open them later.

 

Derek emerged from the bathroom and joined Stiles at the dining room. He cheerfully told Stiles that the contract was finally signed and he could return to his normal schedule. Stiles clapped and congratulated him, genuinely happy for his husband.

 

 _But_ Derek killed the mood with his next sentence though.

 

“We had a celebratory drink after. I got quite buzzed but wasn’t totally drunk. She made advances on me again, gotten as far as sliding her hands on my thighs, but I shooed her off and went back to my room alone. I’ll fire her first thing in the morning.” Derek smiled and said nonchalantly, like he was merely talking about the weather.

 

Stiles’ ears heard the words, and his mind caught the underlying statement.

 

_I got buzzed and she had her hands on me but I turned her down and didn’t cheat on you._

 

Derek might as well say those words to him. Stiles would’ve never expected the back handed way in which Derek showed his loyalty while bringing up Stiles’s disloyalty at the same time. He swallowed the lump in his throat and forced a smile on his face.

 

“I hope they got you a better secretary.” He managed to say.

 

“Hmm.” Derek hummed. “I just want one who could actually get the job done. It would save me a lot of headache.”

 

Stiles thought Derek had said ‘heartache’ instead of ‘headache’, but he wasn’t sure, because the next second

 

Derek was complimenting the Kung Pao chicken.

 

*****

 

True to his word, Derek had fired the secretary. When Stiles came to deliver lunch, she wasn’t there anymore. In her place was a young man who stood up and went to open Derek’ office door as soon as he saw Stiles walking down the hallway.

 

He bowed and greeted Stiles. “Mr. Hale is waiting inside Sir. Have a pleasant lunch.” He closed the door after Stiles stepped inside.

 

Derek looked up and smiled at him. He left his desk and went to the sofa.

 

“He’s better than the last one. Almost as good as Boyd.” Derek said without prompting.

 

Stiles nodded tightly, hands busy taking out the lunch boxes. He didn’t want to comment because he knew what would follow.

 

Derek didn’t immediately eat; he stared intently at Stiles, making the other man fidgeted under the heated gaze. He apparently waited for Stiles to say something about the change of secretary.

 

“Good for you.” Stiles finally said.

 

Derek smiled again and Stiles knew he wouldn’t escape unscathed. It was the same cruel smile Derek had on his face just before he shredded Stiles’s heart with his words.

 

Derek didn’t disappoint.

 

“Good for you too. He’s happily married with two children. He has his family photo on his desk. You have nothing to worry about him.”

 

And Derek started to eat his lunch, not forgetting to compliment Stiles on the food.

 

Stiles’s smile was faked and forced, but he knew Derek didn’t really care at the moment; he just delivered another punishment to Stiles.

 

*****

 

Stiles began to dread Derek’ smiles, especially the cruel ones.

 

It didn’t take long for Stiles to realize that Derek was using his guilt to punish Stiles. He acted sweet towards Stiles, he bought him gifts, came home on time, complimented Stiles’s food and took Stiles out on dates during the weekends.

 

But he also used his words to hurt Stiles every chance he got. Stiles tried to endure it all, knowing that he deserved every bit. But Derek showed no sign of stopping anytime soon and Stiles couldn’t help but to start resenting him for it.

 

Stiles preferred an outright confrontation rather than the thinly veiled reminder of his mistake. He wished they just came to blows and sorted out everything rather than this long drawn out punishment Derek subjected him to. At times, Stiles wanted to defend himself even if he knew that he wouldn’t win any argument soon, but one piercing look from Derek made him swallow his words.

 

Stiles’s life had become surreal. He became the epitome of the perfect husband, and at times he felt the part too. Derek had also started to touch him more. He’d touch Stiles’s elbow, ruffled his hair, caressed his cheek and on one occasion gave him a brief hug. The kisses also returned although there were only few and far between and never on the lips.

 

Sometimes when Derek was being kind, Stiles would feel like they were finally okay. But then Derek would punish Stiles again by bringing up his one ultimate mistake and the hope crumbled. It was a vicious cycle of hope and disappointment. Stiles felt like he was slowly going crazy, but there was nothing he could do. He promised he’d do anything to make it up to Derek. Derek had loved him enough to stay and gave him a second chance and Stiles would be damned if he let go of it.

 

Too bad Derek didn’t love him enough to finally forgive him.

 

Still, the guilt monster had diminished in size. It got a new friend instead. Now Stiles had a little hate monster gnawing on his heart too.

 

*****

 

At first Stiles thought that Derek would end his slow torture soon, but with each day passed, the jab wasn’t decreasing. It didn’t increase either, but it was still there all the same. Three months into it and Stiles was at his wit’s end.

 

He had tried so hard to make amends but Derek still refused to forgive him. Granted, Derek had resumed his touches and kisses, but all in polite cordiality and familiarity, never in intimacy. Even when he kissed Stiles’s lips, he kept it short and chaste. They even cuddled in bed now, but that was as far as their bedroom’s activity went. Derek always held himself back, never giving himself fully. His touches always had a note of reservation.

 

Stiles realized fully that they were both male with needs, and more than once he wanted to initiate something more with Derek. After the first few rejections, Stiles took the hint and pleased himself in the bathroom. He pretended to not notice that Derek did the same. The wads of dirtied tissues in the bathroom trash bin were like a slap to Stiles’s pride.

 

His husband preferred to jerk himself off rather than touch him.

 

It stung but Stiles gritted his teeth and rolled with the punches. He’d been doing that a lot lately. He wondered if his heart was still in good shape, it had been hurt and bruised too many times by Derek’ jabs.

 

But sooner or later, something bound to snap. It happened on the night Derek and Stiles were meant to attend a party. Stiles hadn’t been feeling well since morning. He wasn’t sick, just mentally exhausted. During lunch, he told Derek that he wasn’t feeling too good, and he might have to skip the party invitation.

 

Derek looked at him with a faint worry and almost made an appointment with their doctor, but Stiles assured him that it was nothing serious. He’d rather sleep it away. Derek agreed but made Stiles promise to call him or the doctor if he was feeling worse. Before Stiles left, Derek held him a bit longer and tighter. He also left a lingering kiss on Stiles’s temple.

 

Stiles felt a bit better after that, but he didn’t entertain any hope of them getting better. Once he reached the penthouse, Stiles queued up his favorite cartoons on the home theatre and snuggled up on the sofa with a bucket of popcorn and some sodas.

 

He fell asleep somewhere during Frozen and woke up just as Brave’s end credit rolled on the screen. He groaned and reached for the remote. He turned the whole thing off and stretched himself. He had a light kink on his neck and his bladder was begging to be emptied. With a groan, he stood up and made way to the bathroom.

 

Once finished with his business, he rummaged around in the kitchen for something to eat. He usually ate dinner with Derek, but since Derek attended the party, he had to fend for himself. The thought of preparing dinner for only one person didn’t appealed to him so Stiles grabbed his hoodie, phone and wallet before exiting the penthouse.

 

He walked the few blocks to the nearest convenience store and aimlessly walked through the aisles. He stopped at the frozen food section and browsed through the microwavable dinner. He picked out two packages of seafood pancakes and a bag of vegetable spring roll. He picked up several plastic wrapped sandwich on his way to the cashier. He paid with a swipe of his black card and the cashier did a double take and seized him up and down.

 

Honestly, with his stained shirt, sweatpants and rumpled red hoodie, Stiles looked more like a college dropout rather than a rich dude. He gave the cashier an impatient look and it spurred the latter to ring him up. Stiles signed the slip, took his card and picked up the plastic bag containing his purchases. The cashier gave him the receipts along with some small packets and Stiles only caught the words ‘free promotional sample’ before stuffing everything to his jacket pocket.

 

Stiles walked leisurely back, taking in the scenery and the stale night air of Manhattan city. A billboard with the silhouette of Eiffel Tower on it made him stop. He smiled bitterly and remembered the European vacation he wanted. That was another wish that wouldn’t come true anytime soon, if ever. Stiles sighed and resumed his walk.

 

He knew better than to hold on to past dreams.


	5. Fifth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally. The last chapter is here!! and of course I will post the epilogue. But tomorrow. hA HA.  
> and GOD, please read at the end notes will ya!
> 
> warning : its smexy time! and there is some blood in it. So, feel free to skip that part if you uncomfortable with it.

When he stepped into the penthouse, the first thing he noticed was Derek standing in the middle of the living room wearing a pinched up expression. Derek turned when he heard the elevator bells dinged and came face to face with a surprised Stiles.

 

“Oh, you’re home. I thought you have a dinner party.” Stiles said as he walked in and placed his plastic bag at the coffee table, Derek’ discarded suit jacket and tie were already there.

 

Derek didn’t say anything but there was a glint of steel in his eyes that made Stiles nervous.

 

“Derek?” He queried.

 

Derek clenched his teeth and stalked toward Stiles.

 

“And I thought you weren’t feeling so well.” Derek casted his glance toward the plastic bag and sneered, “But apparently you’re healthy enough to go out and do some shopping.”

 

Stiles felt the hate monster growling in his chest. He didn’t like Derek’ tone, not one bit. Stiles sighed and pulled out the items from the bag.

 

“I was just getting dinner for myself. I don’t feel like cooking.”

 

Derek looked at him skeptically. He took note of Stiles’s rumpled state and scoffed. “Are you sure that’s the only thing you got?”

 

Stiles straightened up so fast he swore he heard his spine cracked. “And what is that suppose to mean?” He challenged.

 

Derek narrowed his eyes. This was the first time Stiles talked back to him and it irked him.

 

“I’m asking you. Is that the only thing you got?” He said menacingly.

 

Stiles was too tired to deal with all the drama. But he couldn’t just brush it off and walked away like he so badly wanted to. This drama was his entire life now; he was the main cast, along with Derek.

 

“Yes.” He snapped out. “It was the only thing I got.” He took off his jacket in irritation and threw it down on the table. That was when the most absurd thing, in Stiles’s opinion, happened.

 

A familiar square of aluminum foil fell from his jacket’s pocket.

 

The ensuing silence was so thick you could hear a pin drop.

 

Derek broke it with a mirthless chuckle. “Of course.” He rasped.

 

Stiles had trouble breathing because ‘where the fuck did that come from?’ was running in endless loop inside his head.

 

“Back to old habbit, huh?” Derek gritted through his teeth.

 

Stiles shook his head vehemently. “No! It’s not what you think! That’s not mine!”

 

Derek scoffed. “In case you missed it, it fell from your jacket.”

 

“But it’s not mine! I don’t know where it came from!” Stiles denied.

 

“Maybe your fling left it there for you.” Derek felt the beginning of ice cold rage creeping on his spine.

 

“No Derek! There’s no fling! I swear to you I was only out to get dinner!” Stiles was close to tearing his hair out.

 

Derek waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Debatable, since the last time you ‘went out for a drink with a friend’; you ended up cheating on me!”

 

“Why do you keep bringing up a mistake I’ve already regretted and repented for every single day?!” Stiles finally yelled.

 

“Regretted?” Derek scoffed. “As if!” He continued.

 

I thought you want to fix us! Apparently not enough to forgive me.” Stiles bit out.

 

“I thought you want to make it up to me. Apparently not enough to stop you from sleeping around.” Derek replied coldly.

 

Stiles froze for a second and his hands clenched. He couldn’t live like this anymore. Just as he thought they took one step forward, Derek would remind him of his mistake and they would end up crashing to square one once again. The vicious cycle kept on repeating and Stiles felt like a modern day Sisyphus.

 

”I did everything I could to love you better. I’m trying my damnedest to be a good husband, a better husband for you. Why can’t you trust me?” Stiles’s voice quivered.

 

“You know what they said about trust and mirror.” Derek shrugged.

 

“Then maybe you should get a new one!” Stiles half screamed.

 

“And maybe I should.” Derek raised his tone as well.

 

Stiles recoiled. “But you said divorce wasn’t an option.” He quickly lost his wind and he felt all the strength leaving his body.

 

Derek raised an elegant eyebrow. “Then why are you suggesting it?”

 

“Because I’m tired of hurting Derek. I’m tired of having the same mistake got thrown on my face every single time. I’m tired of this guilt you hang around my neck like a noose. I’m suffocating Derek, I can’t breathe.” Stiles had fallen to his knees and started crying.

 

“I’m trying so hard to make it right, to make it up to you. But you just dangle your forgiveness in front of me and I kept hoping for it. Just like an ass with a stick and carrots.” Stiles clutched at his chest and tried hard to breathe through his sobs.

 

“Oh God I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe.” Stiles’s lungs started to fail him. “I can’t. I can’t. No more, please no more.” Stiles begged. "Let’s end this Derek. Let’s end this. Either you forgive me and move on, or forget me and move on.” He said before his forehead met the floor. Divorce didn’t sound too bad anymore. It might be painful, but it must be better than this continuous pain they inflicted toward each other.

 

The way Stiles heaved and crumpled on the floor was reminiscent of the day Derek found out he slept with someone else. And Derek’ heart broke just the same even though for different reasons. He thought he could get his revenge by hurting Stiles. And he did. But he didn’t count on his heart breaking along with Stiles’s.

 

Derek clenched his jaw and tried to gather his anger around him, trying to hold on to his own sadness and pain. He wanted to punish Stiles so the other man would feel just as hurt as he was, then he would forgive him. And he succeeded. He had hurt Stiles, badly.

 

Forgiving someone you love was supposed to be easy. It was easy because you wanted to get past the misery and got on with the happy times instead. So why was it so hard for him to forgive Stiles?

 

He loved Stiles still. He didn’t want to end them. He was willing to work with Stiles to make them whole again, and he thought they were progressing. Only to realize that he was the one running in place while Stiles had moved forward. For all his pretty speeches and righteous behavior, Derek was the one still stuck in the past.

 

Stiles had acknowledged his mistake, had paid for it every single day. And it was unfair to Stiles if Derek turned a blind eye to his husband’s effort and still held the younger man as the only guilty party. Derek started out as the victim, but somewhere along the way, their roles had changed. Now Derek was just as guilty.

 

And it came to him so suddenly and out of the blue. Derek was letting his pride ruled his heart. Everything he did so far wasn’t out of love, it was out of pride. Derek couldn’t take Stiles cheating on him and he couldn’t take being replaced, even for just one night. He did what he had to, to keep Stiles with him, not as a husband but as a prisoner, a convict. Guilty of cheating, punished and jailed but never pardoned. In a way, Derek was killing Stiles slowly and he was too blind to realize it.

 

Derek felt so disgusted with himself he almost threw up. His eyes fell to the crying Stiles on the floor and his heart flew out of his chest to the trembling form of Stiles. Derek let out an anguished wail and joined Stiles on the floor. He curled his slightly larger frame over Stiles’s and whispered apologies.

 

“Oh God Stiles. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. What have I done to _you_? Oh love, what have I done to us? I’m sorry Stiles, I’m so sorry.” Derek could taste the bitter pang of regret mingling with the saltiness of his tears.

 

Stiles’s breath hitched and he tried to sit up. Derek helped him and they ended up facing each other with tears streaming down their cheeks. Stiles clutched desperately at Derek’ biceps, his grip strong enough to leave bruises.

 

“No, don’t say you’re sorry. Just say you forgive me. I don’t need your sorry, Derek. I need your forgiveness.” Stiles pleaded to him, with eyes so wide and wild and lost.

 

Another anguished cry escaped Derek’ mouth and he pulled Stiles into his embrace.

 

“Yes, yes baby, I forgive you! I forgive you Stiles, I forgive you.” Derek would give anything and everything to make Stiles stopped looking like that.

 

Stiles returned the hug just as fiercely. Just when he lost all hope, Derek finally said the words he’d been dying to hear. It was gut-wrenching. It was exhilarating. It was bittersweet. But it also felt like finding an oasis in the middle of an endless dessert.

 

This is the first time Derek hugged him without reservation after that day. Stiles’s body burned in need to have him closer. He’d been deprived of his husband’s warmth and the need to feel all of Derek was making him dizzy.

 

“Hold me, just please hold me. Derek, hold me.” He sobbed out.

 

And Derek held him tighter. He was sure he was going to break Stiles’s rib by how hard he wound his arms around his husband, but Stiles only asked for more, more, more.

 

And Derek was eager to give him more.

 

He released his hold and before Stiles could protest he grabbed Stiles’s face and crashed their lips together. Stiles gasped and moaned into the kiss.

 

The kiss was hard, bruising, unforgiving. Their teeth clacked, but neither paid any heed. Their tongues met, hot and slick against each other. They bit and nipped and moaned into each other’s mouth. Their saliva mixed with tears, making quite a mess but neither minded it. Stiles’s hands moved from their purchase on Derek’ arm to tear at his husband’s shirt. _He needed to feel Derek’_ _skin_.

 

He couldn’t bother with the buttons so he ripped it apart instead. Derek’ cufflinks made it hard for Stiles to completely rid his husband of the shirt, so he just left it there. Derek groaned and tugged at Stiles’s shirt impatiently. They separated long enough for Derek to pull the shirt off of Stiles.

 

Their lips met again for another hard kiss. Their hands weren’t idle either. Derek let his hands roam around the plane of Stiles’s back, running his blunt nail across the unblemished skin. He wanted to leave his own marks there, to erase the old ones, left by a nameless stranger.

 

Stiles whimpered into his mouth and their tongues battled for dominance. Stiles’s hands were fumbling with Derek’ buckle and pants and he groaned in frustration when his trembling fingers failed him. Derek impatiently pulled away from the kiss and undid the buckle and fly. Stiles used the little break to catch his breath and just took in the sight of his husband’s naked chest.

 

And he moaned again at the strong urge to lick. Stiles gave in to his urge and bent down so he could lick at the spot between Derek’ collarbones. Derek moaned when he felt Stiles’s tongue on his skin. It had been too long. He cursed and hauled Stiles up.

 

They half crawled half tumbled to the sofa where Derek pushed Stiles atop the leather cushion and proceeded to pull at the sweatpants’ string. Stiles’s fell on his back and helpfully raised his hips when Derek pulled the sweatpants down.

 

Derek hissed when he saw Stiles’s bulge. “I want to taste you.” He whispered. “I want to _eat_ you.”

 

Then he yanked Stiles’s brief down. Stiles moaned when his erection sprang free from its confinement. He moaned louder when Derek fell to his knees, grabbed his thighs, spread him open and dove right in.

 

Stiles’s hands flew to grab at Derek’ hair as he felt the first lick. Derek had bypassed his engorged member and went straight to his entrance. He cursed when Derek ran the flat of his tongue against the puckered hole. He cursed louder when Derek gave kitten licks around the sphincter.

 

“Fuck fuck fuck, Derek!” Stiles keened when Derek finally breached his body with the tip of his tongue.

 

Derek was lost in a haze of lust. It had been too long since he had Stiles writhing underneath him, too long since he drove the other man crazy with his ministrations. He missed Stiles’s musky smell and taste. He missed the way Stiles mewled and panted.

 

Derek withdrew to lick around Stiles’s rim, teasing the wrinkled skin. He alternated it with short jab inside Stiles’s hole with the tip of his tongue. Stiles’s thighs quivered and he let out another string of curses.

 

As much as Stiles enjoyed the way Derek ate him out, he wanted more. He grasped the side of Derek’ face and tried to pull the other man up.

 

“Derek,please. Don’t tease.” He rasped.

 

Derek gave another lick before he pulled back. “Tell me what you want baby.” He grunted with a voice rough with desire.

 

“You. I want you in me. _Now_.” Stiles panted.

 

“Wait, let me get the lube.” Derek started to rise up.

 

Stiles was quick to stop him. “No, no, make it hurt. Make it hurt Derek.”

 

Derek’ eyes widened and he hesitated for a moment. But Stiles was adamant.

 

“Please. I _need_ this to hurt.”

 

Derek locked his gaze with Stiles and upon seeing the naked plea in the brown orbs, Derek suddenly understood. Stiles didn’t need this to be gentle; they would have plenty of time later for gentleness. Right now, he wanted it to be rough. Only roughness could make this real.

 

They both knew what this was. This was their hot, angry, rough make up sex.  This was their closure, the last act of their drama. This was Derek’ last punishment and Stiles’s last penance. This is the climax for their sour marriage, but never the end. They needed to break their old relationship, shatter it to pieces so they could build a new one.

 

After this, they would begin again with clean slates. They would only have blank pages ahead of them and they could write their new story with flowing flowery script, with sweet love makings and sunshine kisses, long walks on the beach and romantic candle lit dinners. They could have it all, they would have it all. Later.

 

At the moment Stiles wanted Derek’ fingers in him. He wanted the long digits to stretch him, prepared him for Derek. He gave voice to what he wanted and Derek complied.

 

He sucked his fingers to coat them with saliva before pushing one into Stiles none too gently.

 

Stiles tensed at the first breach but forced his body to relax. It burned and stung, but wonderful at the same time. Stiles couldn’t get enough of it.

 

“More.” He croaked.

 

Derek complied and used two fingers. Stiles winced. The pain was more pronounced, but there was also an underlying pleasure beneath it. Stiles drew a deep breath and propped up on his elbows so he could move back onto Derek’ fingers.

 

His fingers began to dry up so Derek gathered his saliva and let it dribbled at Stiles’s hole. It was filthy and inadequate, but it was all he had. Derek added another finger and carefully worked Stiles open. Stiles couldn’t really care about preparation; he wanted Derek inside him so badly.

 

“Derek please, please, please just get inside me.” He sobbed.

 

Derek moaned at the wanton display but ignored his husband’s words. Even if Stiles wanted this hurt, Derek wasn’t about to take him raw. He continued to add more spit into Stiles’s entrance and finally his three fingers could slide in and out of Stiles with some ease.

 

“Enough, enough. In me. Now!” Stiles was begging incoherently.

 

Derek looked up at his husband and saw how wrecked Stiles looked. HIs tear stained cheeks were flushed. The pink reached the tip of his ears and neck. His pouty lips were swollen and small pants escaped the half opened mouth. His brows were knitted together and his eyes were glassy with need.

 

Derek felt his resolve crumbled when he saw Stiles’s member. It was hard and purple, with beads of precum leaking from the tip. He bent down and took Stiles’s dick in his mouth, letting it rest on his tongue while he withdrew his fingers so he could work his own cock out of his boxer. He pushed his boxer and pants down until they fell mid-thigh.

 

Once he had it freed, Derek let go of Stiles’s cock and shuffled forward. He grabbed Stiles’s thigh and dragged him closer to the edge of the sofa. He bent down and kissed Stiles, one hand was grabbing at his husband’s hip while the other guided his thick cock into Stiles’s hole.

 

He tried to push in slow, not wanting to hurt Stiles too much, but the younger man had another idea. Stiles braced his hands against the back of the couch and pushed himself toward Derek.

 

“Fuck Stiles!” Derek cursed as his member breached Stiles’s body in one swift thrust.

Stiles was biting his lips so his scream wouldn’t make it past his lips. _It hurt, so so bad_. Stiles lost his breath for few seconds as tears of pain escaped the corner of his eyes.

 

For his part, Derek had gripped Stiles’s hips and kept himself still. It was too much. The heat and tightness was too much. It had been months since he last been this intimate with Stiles and the sensations that engulfed him all at once were too overwhelming, he almost came.

 

Derek took a ragged breath and gritted his teeth, willing the orgasm away. He recited multiplication tables inside his head to help him calm down. It would be too embarrassing and too soon to come just then. They haven’t started anything yet.

 

Once the pain subsided to a more bearable level, Stiles bucked his hips and moaned low in his throat.

 

“Move Derek.”

 

Derek buried his face at the crook of Stiles’s neck and breathed him in. “Give me a second.”

 

Stiles grunted and moved his hands to grasp at Derek’ shoulders. He moved his hips in small thrusts to entice Derek, but his husband’s big palms stilled his movement.

 

“Damn it Stiles, give me a moment!” He barked.

 

Stiles mewled in displeasure but relented. He nuzzled at Derek’ soft stubble beard and slid his hands under Derek’ dress shirt to draw soothing circles on Derek’ back. He could feel Derek’ manhood throbbing inside of him and it was glorious. He planted little kiss at every bit of Derek’ skin that he could reach.

 

With a great shuddering breath, Derek finally started to move slowly. Stiles clutched at Derek desperately when he felt the painful but delicious drag of Derek’ cock along his inner walls. He breathed through everything, trying to lessen the burn. Derek’ pace stuttered and he almost came to a halt but Stiles wouldn’t have any of that. The younger man wrapped his legs around Derek’ waist and pushed Derek deeper inside of him using his heels.

 

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t you fucking dare to stop.” He rasped.

 

And at that moment Derek would give anything Stiles asked of him. So throwing caution to the wind, he started to thrust into Stiles shallowly. Stiles’s little ah-ah- ah spurred him on and his thrust picked up force.

 

Derek couldn’t deny that being inside of Stiles was one of the best feelings in the world. Soon, the pleasure crept back along his spine and burned him from the inside. His thrust steadily turned into a pounding. It was all too much, too good, too perfect and Derek felt the first tingling of orgasm tickled his toes.

 

Derek groaned and slowed down a little, he grabbed Stiles’s thigh and hooked them over his shoulder, making the younger man almost folded over in half. Derek tried to aim for that one spot and when a particular thrust made Stiles _howled_ , Derek smirked and maintained the angle.

 

Stiles was reduced to a blubbering mess of tears and drool as Derek repeatedly hit his prostate. The pain was long forgotten and all Stiles could think about was how good it felt, how right. He wanted more, wanted it harder, wanted Derek deeper. And he had said all those aloud, pleading words fell from his slack mouth as his hands grabbed and clutched and clawed at Derek’ back.

 

Derek gripped Stiles’s hips hard enough to bruise as his thrust became violent. His pistoned in and out of Stiles’s hole, giving the man beneath him as much as pleasure as he was taking. The sound of skin slapping against skin combined with Stiles’s mewls of ‘more Derek, fuck- more’ were the only sounds in the room. Stiles wanted more and by Gods, Derek would give him more.

 

Stiles screamed in pleasure at the brutal assault. He felt the liquid heat pooled in his stomach, felt himself danced along the precipice. It was _perfect_. But then it got even better.

 

Derek had moved one hand to grip at Stiles’s leaking erection. He pumped it in time with his thrust. It didn’t take long before Stiles finally stumbled over the edge and with a hoarse cry he spilled himself all over Derek’ hand and his own chest. Derek kept pumping the sensitive flesh and Stiles had to grab his hand to make the older man stop.

 

The orgasm made Stiles’s inner walls clamped down on Derek’ hardness and it was proofed to be too much. Several moments later, Derek came inside of Stiles with a cry of his own. He thrust a couple more time, milking himself dry and trying to make the orgasm lasted longer before he finally ceased all movements and just slumped forward on top of Stiles.

 

He could feel the ickiness of their sweat combined with Stiles’s spunk, smeared their chests, but he was too blissed out to care. He nuzzled Stiles’s jawline and caresses each moles that spread beautifully across Stiles’ cheeks with his lips then go lower to sucked hickeys into the pale skin of his neck. Stiles groaned and his thighs quivered. Gently, Derek lowered Stiles’s legs from his shoulder and rested the long legs on the sofa.

 

They stayed silent as they came down from the high, Stiles’s hands were lazily stroking the small hair on Derek’ nape and the older hummed contentedly. Derek could feel the shirt sticking to his sweaty back and the band of his boxer started to dug into his flesh.

 

“I ruined your shirt again.” Stiles whispered to him.

 

Derek snorted but he couldn’t care less about the Balenciaga shirt. He still had plenty on his closet. Slowly he rose up and he winced when his knees protested. He leaned down to give Stiles one last peck on his swollen lips and started to pull out.

 

Stiles moaned in a mixture of pain and disappointment as Derek withdrew. He shivered and clenched his walls, trying to keep Derek inside. Then he heard Derek’ gasp and curse.

 

“Fuck Stiles, you’re bleeding.” The older man looked so pale and stricken. His eyes widened in horror as he stared at the red tinged cum trickling out of the puffy and swollen rim.

 

Stiles winced and now that the euphoria had shimmered down, he could clearly felt the throbbing pain on his lower part.

 

Derek quickly pulled up his boxer and pants, uncaring about the mess he made and went to grab some wet towel from the guest bathroom. When he returned, he cleaned up Stiles as best as he could, being extra gentle when he dab at the skin around Stiles’s entrance.

 

Once done, he carried Stiles to the bedroom bridal style. Stiles’s brows furrowed in suppressed pain and Derek couldn’t help but kept muttering apologies.

 

“I’m gonna call Deaton.” He said after he tucked Stiles into their bed, making sure that the other was comfortable.

 

The younger man caught his wrist before he could move away and pulled him down for a kiss.

 

“Don’t blame yourself for this. I asked for it. I wanted this.” He whispered against Derek’ lips as they parted.

 

Derek still looked torn and he was about to protest when Stiles kissed him again, harder this time.

 

“Don’t blame yourself. I _need_ this” He iterated and gave a stern glare to his husband to get his point across.

 

Derek sighed but his slumped shoulders told Stiles that he wouldn’t argue anymore. Derek straightened up and went to the living room in search for his phone. He wandered back to the bedroom, talking rapidly to their personal doctor. He stopped to look at Stiles before he went to the bathroom.

 

Stiles could hear him rummaged around and when Derek emerged, he had a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers in his hands, phone cradled between his ear and neck. He placed the items on their bedside table and with a _thanks_ , ended the call.

 

“Deaton will be here soon.” He said as he sat at the edge of the bed and uncapped the bottle, taking out two pills.

 

Stiles downed them without much protest. The pain had subsided to a dull throb, but the worried etched across Derek features made him pliant to Derek’ ministrations. He closed his eyes and sighed contentedly as Derek’ brushed his bangs and caressed his cheek.

 

“I missed you.” Stiles whispered.

 

Derek’ hand stilled for a second before he returned to running his fingers through Stiles’s hair.

 

“I missed you too.” He replied. Then he leaned down and kissed the tip of Stiles’s nose.”I love you.”

 

Stiles’s smile bloomed into his signature creepy grin which Derek adored so much. “I love you too.”

 

They stayed together like that for a wihle, forehead touching and sharing the same breath. Then Derek remembered about the messy state of the living room. He groaned and stood up.

 

“I need to clean up before Deaton gets here.” He said when Stiles mewled in protest.

 

Stiles pouted but let him go.

 

Back in the living room, Derek whipped out the leather cleaner and proceeded to clean the sofa. He gathered all their discarded clothes, his fingers trembled for a moment as he picked up the condom packet from the floor, but he’d be damned if he made another mistake.

 

Squaring his shoulder, he marched back to the bedroom and deposited the dirty laundry inside the hamper and threw the small square into the trash bin. He undid his cuff and undressed before jumping in the shower for a quick wash.

 

He was done and dressed in 5 minutes, just in time for Deaton’s arrival. He fidgeted beside the bed as Deaton gave a red faced Stiles an examination. When he was done, Derek was reminded again of why Deaton was his personal doctor and best friend.

 

Deaton didn’t make any comment about the tearing. He only left some medications and carefully instructed Derek on how to apply the salve. He gave a reassuring pat to Stiles’s back and left the room with one last warning of ‘taking it slow the next time’ to Derek. Derek blushed beet red and he thanked his lucky stars that Deaton had spoken slowly. He was pretty sure there wouldn’t ever be a ‘next time’.

 

Later that night, when they were both safe under the blanket, Stiles gasped and bolted up. Then he cried out in pain and fell back down on the bed. Derek was alarmed as he helped Stiles to get comfortable.

 

“What’s wrong? Are you in pain?” He asked worriedly.

 

Stiles shook his head even as his face twisted in a disbelieving frown.

 

“I just remembered. The condom; I got it from the supermarket. It was a promotional sample. It was a God damn fucking free promotional sample!” He rushed out.

 

“Oh…” Was all Derek could say.

 

“I already threw it away.” Derek continued.

 

Stiles hummed and took Derek’ hands in his. He played with the long fingers before he brought the hands to his face and kissed the palms.

 

“That part of our life is over. Tomorrow is a new day.” Stiles said.

 

Derek heartily agreed. “Yes. Tomorrow is our new beginning.” He assured the younger man.

 

Stiles looked up at him then, eyes so full with emotions, fear, hope, regret and thousands other things he couldn’t put into words, but the most prominent one was love.  Derek felt a hand squeezed at his heart. This man who he held in his arms, this man he called his. This was the man he vowed to love and cherish for eternity.

 

He suddenly recalled the Stiles from their wedding day, clad in white tuxedo with his freshly cut hair. He recalled hearing the ‘I do’ left the pink full mouth in deep voice. He remembered kissing those soft lips with his own, remembered that they tasted of cherries, of strawberries, of sunlight and warm day under a blue sky, of home. He remembered stars were dancing in those big eyes as they swayed together on the dance floor. He remembered their first time making love as husbands, how Stiles opened up and bloomed for him.

 

Overwhelmed by the nostalgia, Derek moaned and kissed Stiles. He kissed him fervently, conveying all the love and adoration he held for Stiles. He kissed him insistently, conveying all his regret and apology.

 

Stiles seemed to understand, because he pulled Derek closer, kissed him back a little fiercer. He conveyed his own love and adoration, his own regret and apology. Somewhere along the kiss, their feelings were connected and their hearts were bridged. Somewhere along the kiss, they understood each other better.

 

They parted and both panted for air. Eyes closed as their lips tingled. A blanket of silence lay on top of their curling bodies and Stiles decided to draw the final curtain.

 

“I paid everything. With tears and blood. I paid for everything. We’re even.” Stiles whispered.

 

Derek trembled at his words. He kissed Stiles again, softer this time. “You did, you did. We’re even.” Derek said against his lips.

 

He wanted to say more, wanted to say that he was the one who owed a lot to Stiles, but the past was best left in the past. It’s nearing midnight and he just wanted their new day and their new beginning. He squeezed Stiles’s arms and held him closer.

 

“Sleep now. We’ll have our tomorrow when we wake up.” Stiles snuggled closer to Derek, his arms wrapped tightly around Derek’ torso.

 

“I love you.” Derek sighed. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.”

 

Stiles mumbled. “That was a whole lot of ‘I love you’.”

 

“I’m making up for the lost time.” Derek mumbled back before he whispered more ‘I love you’ into Stiles’s hair.

 

Stiles smiled and mumbled a single ‘I love you too’ into Derek’ skin. He fell asleep amidst Derek’ seemingly endless litany of ‘I love you, I’m sorry, I love you’; his heart and mind were finally at peace.

 

They were finally at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the real Author ish here!!! God Im so damn happy when I saw it. please give a loud applaud to our real author here! 
> 
> So yeah, author-nim...thank you for letting me share your beautiful work here. Really. I don't know how much I should say thank you for this wonderful story. Just...Thank you. Thank you so much. Love you :))


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